


Seasonally Inspired

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: All but the last chapter is like T at the worst, Assistant Baker! Maria, Baker! Hamilton, Final- not necessary to read chapter is smut, Fluff, Ice cream Maker! Madison, M/M, Maria/Eliza (minor couple), farmer market AU, kind of?, the indoor part.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7141040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Madison enjoys his rituals. </p><p>Does the same thing 7 days a week, 365 days a year with few exceptions. Wakes up early, works hard all day, comes home alone. Is happy that way.</p><p>But what happens when the baker who works at the same market he does starts hanging around his stall?</p><p>And is James ready to switch up his routine to accommodate someone else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consumptive_sphinx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/gifts).



On Monday morning, James’ alarm goes off around 2.

There was a time that he might have hit the snooze, or covered his face with a pillow. But he’s about three years into this routine and Madison wouldn’t trade it for the world. So he takes a shower instead, letting the warm water wake him up and soothe his muscles. It’s not much, but he enjoys his morning ritual, takes the time to prepare himself for another day at the Market.

Of course, the best part about having to get to work so early is the lack of traffic on the road when he leaves in the morning. Madison likes to use his drive time as a chance to listen to books on tape, and this week he’s enjoying Black Betty by Walter Mosley. An interesting mystery novel taking place in the 1960’s. It’s engaging enough that he sits in the parking lot for a few minutes to finish his section before turning off the car and heading inside.

A sharp rapping noise comes from the front of his stall less than an hour later and James frowns, trying to figure out what it could be. It’s too early for customers, and Washington, the owner of the Market and his technical boss, doesn’t usually bother them unless it’s time for rent. But the sound comes again and he stares down at what he’s doing. Decides that there is enough ice and salt around the machine to last him while he goes to investigate.

Rolls his eyes when he sticks his head out of his prep area and sees a familiar Puerto Rican leaning against his front counter, long hair sitting directly on top of his head in a sloppy bun and already half covered in flour. 

“Morning Jamesy-boy,” Hamilton sings it more than he says it. “I was wondering if I could interest you in a muffin? I know you probably don’t eat before you come in and I just finished a batch.”

Sure enough, there are two large muffins chilling on his front counter when he glances down. Hamilton’s bake shop is on the other side of the building, and much like Madison, making things fresh means rolling in at 3 or 4 AM. Often times they’re the first ones inside, arriving just as the farmers do to unload the day’s produce outside. 

The farmer’s market that they both work at consists of three main sections. A square building off to the right holds the butcher’s shop. The bottom portion an outdoor market, almost evenly divided between things like vegetables and fruits on the right side, and flowers and trees on the left. A parking lot sits between that and the long, thin building that Hamilton and Madison both work. It’s a place that people can find knickknacks, bird houses, not to mention wines- but also a place that they can sit down and enjoy a snack or two.

That’s where they come in. Hamilton with his baked goods, James with his ice cream and freshly pressed juices. Recently there’s even been a new stall with fudges and candies. Though Madison hasn’t caught the woman’s name who runs it, she has stopped by a few times to chat. Her father is apparently some sort of hot shot real estate agent, and this is her most recent attempt at proving she can do things on her own and be just as happy.

While he obviously doesn't want her to fail, her plans on expanding to other desserts do worry him slightly. There are only so many customers during the week, and if she creates an overlap, it could cut into his profit margin. But then again, he and Hamilton have fared well enough working against one another.

“Don’t you have an oven to be watching?” Or batter to be mixing, or frosting to frost. Madison isn’t actually sure what all goes into cake making.

Hamilton only waves his phone. “That’s what timers are for. The world won’t end if you step away for five minutes to eat something.”

Easy for him to say. “If you’re determined, you can come back here, but I have too many things to do to take a break right now.”

There’s lemons, limes, and oranges to be chopped for the juice, not to mention he still hasn’t decided what flavors he wants to do today for the ice cream. He at least has his first batches of vanilla and chocolate already going, will most likely do a strawberry one as well to celebrate them coming into season. 

Other than those staples, he likes to experiment with at least one flavor a week. Trying out new things to see what the people like. This week he’s waffling between a lemonade and something to do with lavender. Summer is upon them, and if he’s going to have to suffer the heat, he might as well embrace it.

“All work and no play makes James a dull boy,” Hamilton teases as comes in, placing his muffin offering next to the chopping board that James is using.

Madison rolls his eyes. “Not all of us are morning people, Hamilton.”

“One of these days I’ll convince you to call me Alex.” Hamilton pops a piece of his own muffin into his mouth, before grinning. “Perhaps it’ll take some after hours collaboration to get us there?”

The knife he’s been chopping up orange slices with jerks, and Madison glances over to try and see if the double meaning had been intended. Finds himself unable to tell as Hamilton wipes crumbs from his fingertips with a singular sort of focus.

“You know what would be really good?” Alex asks as he tosses his wrapper in the trash.

All James needs to do is finish with this first batch of fruit slices, and then he can stop for a moment to eat the muffin Alex has brought him. A small break before he starts on the halves, or has to transfer the ice cream from the machines and into the cooler. “What do you think would be really good?”

“Something with mint.” Hamilton nods to himself. “I think I might make some mint chocolate chip cookies.”

Mint. Madison considers it for a moment and then makes a small noise of approval. That could actually go really well with his lemonade ice cream idea. Something to make it really pop.

A beeping noise causes Madison’s knife to jerk again, and Hamilton at least has the decency to apologize for it this time. “That’s my timer. Nice seeing ya James.”

With Hamilton gone, he’s able to focus on getting everything done. Grabs a saucepan to make his ice cream base, tossing in the sugar, eggs, and cream before heading to the front to get his smaller juicer. Snags some of the lemons that he’d sliced before Hamilton arrived, zests the peels into the pan before juicing them in order to really bring out that lemon flavor. A splash of vanilla goes in next, and he checks the cabinet for some mint to add in.

Once everything is done and his base has not only simmered but been placed in the fridge to chill, Madison finally takes the time to unwrap Hamilton’s muffin. Props himself up on a stool and enjoys the sweet brown sugar flavor. It isn’t the most filling thing in the world, but considering most mornings he doesn’t stop to eat until almost noon, he can’t really complain.

Though he can’t stop himself from wondering what Hamilton meant by collaborating. They’ve known each other for almost two years now. While James’ known about Hamilton’s preferences since Pride season that first year when the man used the bi flag for a tablecloth- it’s the first time he’s had any reason to think the man might consider him in that light.

It’s not as disconcerting of a thought as he expects it to be.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday morning finds James in a bit of a tailspin. 

Unexpected traffic means that he not only finished his audiobook a few days sooner than expected but that he walked through the door an entire hour and a half later than normal. It's definitely not ideal and he shelves not only the idea for the lemonade ice cream, but the strawberry one as well. There's not enough time to make either of their bases before the market opens, and unfortunately, manning his booth by himself makes it less than appealing to try and have one on the stove later in the day. No, better to go with the vanilla and chocolate bases that he put in the fridge before leaving yesterday. If he has enough time, he'll chop up some strawberries to fold into one of them instead. Not quite as good as properly preparing the base, but he has to make do with the materials that he has.

It's just about time for customers to show and he's doing his best to keep calm while chopping up the citrus for the day. Tries not to groan when he hears Hamilton. "Hey, is everything okay? It's not like you to be late."

"Wreck." It's all he can really say. It's not as if he planned on being late, or was late through any fault of his own.

Regrets being so short when Hamilton puts a muffin up on his counter. "Did you have enough time to get everything ready this morning?"

Madison shakes his head, and the muffin falls short next to Hamilton's next gesture. "I've got to get back to my stall to pull my pound cake out of the oven, but I could send Maria over when she gets in this morning? I don't know what she knows about making ice cream, but she could run the front for you?"

The fact that Hamilton is willing to share his assistant... Madison doesn't know how he's supposed to feel about that. "That would be fantastic. But only if you're sure-"

Hamilton cuts him off. "Don't worry about it. I can handle waiting an hour or two to start on my next batch."

Before James can say thank you, Hamilton's phone rings and he darts back toward his side of the market. Madison watches him go before going back to cutting up the limes. Waves to Maria when he notices her walking his way a few minutes later. 

"Alex said you could use a hand this morning?" Maria asks as she ducks behind the counter.

Madison nods, glances around as he tries to think of all he'll need to tell her. "So, prices are posted on the wall right there? Just like Hamilton does it- that's the price with tax. No need to worry about math. Scooping things is pretty straight forward. Have you ever made an orangeade before?"

No. That's okay. "So the jugs down there? Have our sugar water mix in them. Already in the correct ratio. If they order an orangeade? Three orange halves. One lemon half. Juice them as well as you can, don't be afraid to move it around, though, of course, remember to wear gloves. If it's lemonade, six lemon halves. Fill the shaker with a small amount of ice, pour the juice in and then fill with sugar water. Shake well, strain into the cup which should have the rest of your ice. Ask if they'd like fruit, if so, two slices each. Oh! And there're cherries if someone would like those."

It's a lot to describe for what feels like such a simple process. But then again, he's been doing it for years. Thankfully Maria seems to get it all, and he even steps to the side to let her make a test orangeade. When she's done, she takes a sip and hums, pleased with the taste. Good enough for him. With another murmured thank you, James steps back to his prep area.

He doesn't want to take up too much of her time, so he decides to go with the strawberry ice cream base instead of trying to get both it and the lemonade done. To start, he grabs a metal bowl and chops up some of the berries that he'd grabbed from down at the market yesterday and tosses them with a healthy splash of vodka and a large dose of sugar. The best thing about working at the market is how much access he has to higher quality fruits, and he doesn't want to ruin that by letting the strawberries get icy when the base is in the machine. 

With that part done, he focuses on making the rest of the base. Cuts back slightly on the sugar because he wants to highlight the strawberry. There's a part of him that's tempted to try and use basil as well, but considering he's already working on borrowed time he doesn't want to risk ending up with something inedible. Madison steps back outside to check on Maria, smiles when he realizes she's with a customer. As sure and confident as she is at Hamilton's stall.

They're a good team, those two. Hamilton had run his stall by himself, the same as Madison, for about the first year. A particularly bad case of pneumonia had knocked him out for almost a month, though, and once he'd realized that he couldn't do it alone? He'd finally hired Maria. A recent college grad with apparent ambitions to become a pastry chef, trying to save up to go to culinary school. Hamilton's baking wasn't quite that fancy but Maria had considered it good experience. James had gotten to know her decently well while Hamilton had been sick, had been pleasantly surprised when she chose to stick around when he came back.

And not that he'd tell Hamilton, but she's also elevated his creations, always pushing him to try new things and actually make them work rather than abandoning them at first failure. 

"That wasn't so bad," Maria says after the customer is far enough away that he can't hear her. "Give me enough time and I bet I could run any joint in this place."

James' lip twitches. "I'd love to see you try taking Mulligan's job."

"This place. As in the building," Maria stresses the last word. "One day I'll learn how to properly cut up meat. I do not, however, illusion myself that I will ever be able to do it as well as Herc. I'm pretty sure he could do it blindfolded and with one hand behind his back. And still crack jokes while he does it."

It was a pretty accurate description.

"Just give me a moment to throw my berries in my base and throw it in the fridge. When I break for lunch it'll be about time for it to go in the machine." It's more information that he needs to give her technically but James is beginning to feel a bit awkward.

Unsure of how he's supposed to repay Hamilton's kindness. 

Maria seems completely unphased. "Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do? No offense to Hammy, but I think I like it better up here. At least you don't feel the need to narrate everything you do."

Something about his expression must come off as confused because Maria launches into her Hamilton impression. "And now I make the frosting. Some people think that there's such a thing as too sweet of one, but those people are wrong. What's important is that it's balanced against the cake. Here comes the sugar. And now the salt- just a dash. Nobody wants a salty dessert. Unless it's salted caramel. Or maybe involving pretzels. Pretzels are also wonderful if done right- the secret it-"

Maria stops her impression with a large flourish of her hands. "Even his tangents have tangents, okay? He's fantastic when he puts his mind to it- absolute daft the rest of it. Yesterday he had the audacity to ask me if I thought wasabi would work as a frosting ingredient."

It isn't going to endear her to him, but he can't help but point out that wasabi buttercream is actually a thing that exists. Though obviously not a super popular thing in and of itself.

"Well then, if you won't let me do anything else-" she leaves it hanging, clearly waiting to see if he'll interject and save her from Hamilton's chattering- "I should get back to where I can practice my piping techniques."

Madison nods. "Why don't you take two juices with you? It's the least I could do after how much you've helped me out."


	3. Chapter 3

Wednesday morning it's raining.

The first thing that he does when he arrives at the market is make a juice for himself. It's not quite the same effect as coffee, but it at least keeps his eyes open as he checks his bases. The night before he'd stayed late, even once the place had officially closed, to make sure that he wouldn't be in trouble if there was another traffic issue. And then he'd gone home and stayed up later than planned, making breakfast for the morning on a whim.

Once he's transferred the first batch of bases from the fridge to the ice cream machine, Madison sets a timer on his phone and grabs the frittata that he'd brought in. It'd felt like a good step in terms of thanking Maria and Alex for helping him out, and especially Alex for feeding him throughout the week. James does his best to focus on that, the fact that he's doing this because of something they did for him. That's all. 

Because if James thinks about Alex saying the words 'after hours collaboration' one more time, he's going to walk back to his stall. 

In fact, that's a possibility he's still considering when Maria spots him and waves. Too late to turn back now. "Maria, you're looking lovely today."

It's not an empty compliment either. She's wearing a beautiful sundress and instead of taking style inspiration from Alex's always messy bun, her hair is pulled back in a nice braid. Compared to the jeans and t-shirts that most stall workers to favor, she looked put together and polished. 

"Thanks." Maria smiles at him shyly. "Eliza always looks really nice? And we were talking yesterday during my lunch and she mentioned that she thought my hair would be really pretty down? Which, I can't quite do because- ya know."

Hair and baked goods don't exactly get along well. "Well, the braid looks very nice. Hamilton in the back?"

Maria nods and he shifts the bag he has in his hands before going to get him. Finds him in the back, tongue stuck out of his mouth as he bounces next to his mixer. Not wanting to break his concentration, James stands back until Hamilton turns the machine off and looks up. Freezes slightly when he realizes that James is there before grinning. "Jamesy-boy! What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Madison watches at the man continues to move around his small space, taking the batter that he'd been working on and pouring it into a series of pans. "I thought I'd return the favor after you fed me the past few mornings." He digs into his bag, pulling out a Ziploc bag with the slice of frittata. "It has mushrooms and peppers in it, which I seem to remember you liking?"

Hamilton drops his now empty bowl into the sink and turns to put one gloved hand over his heart. "Why, Jamesy, I didn't know you paid such attention to what I ate. I'm touched."

Part of James wants to argue that it's not that hard to notice. A few times a year all the stall workers do get-togethers, and Hamilton has never exactly been quiet when extolling the virtues of the farm fresh food. Considering where they work, it's not exactly an uncommon belief, but there's always been something about the man's rants and rambles. As Maria had put it yesterday, even his tangents had tangents. 

But something makes him bite back the comment. Does he really want to try and argue that he doesn't notice the man? What kind of message would that send? "I made some for Maria as well. They can be eaten warmed or as is, whenever you two get a free moment. I'd love to stay but..."

Hamilton nods. "You know, if you were to get a larger machine, you wouldn't have to make so many batches."

Which is true. It's something he's thought about, but while his business is stable, he's not sure that a better machine would help out enough to be worth the cost. "One day. You know how it is."

Working at the market is a temperamental beast. Running his business means understanding balance, knowing that he can't spend the excess money he makes in the summer because he might need it to carry him through the winter when people tend to forget that the market is still open. Christmas provides a small boost, people shopping for Christmas trees outside and unique items inside, though he knows Hamilton fares much better than he does. At the end of the day, baked goods can be gifts and James only functions as the day's treat.

Despite that, he wouldn't change what he does for the world. 

The morning shift is relatively calm. There are a few regulars who come by early a couple of times a week, looking to avoid the heat as they pick up fresh produce. Health-conscious, if also slightly snobby, individuals like Thomas Jefferson, who enjoys hanging out at his stall and complaining about the way the heat makes his hair frizz. There's also Dolley, who he can count on stopping by at least twice each week with her little boy, Todd. A sweet mother insistent on teaching her son about the wonders of food. Occasionally, if it's a slow enough, he'll even let them come back into the prep zone. He even keeps a step stool tucked for Todd; so that he can pull it out and make his own juice concoctions. 

Around eleven James is surprised to hear Hamilton's voice calling for him and he looks up just as the man steps behind the counter. "Scootch. I brought you a barbecue sandwich from the God of Meat. Who says hi, by the way."

"If you keep calling him that, it's going to go to his head." Not that he doesn't deserve the compliment, but Hercules is already cocky enough. "And thank you?"

A hand lands on his shoulder and James tenses, trying to avoid jerking as Hamilton basically drapes himself across his back. "We could make a good pair, you know. Looking out for each other."

And that is awfully forward, even for Hamilton. But before James can complain, or even really process anything beyond the smell of whatever it is that Hamilton uses for shampoo, the man has moved to take over his counter. "Now eat before I tell Herc that you turned down his food."

"Yes, Sir." It's a joke, but Hamilton waggles his eyebrows at it, and James retreats a few steps backward and starts to eat the sandwich to save him further awkwardness.

When he's finished, he washes his hands in the back before thanking Hamilton again. Who promptly huffs. "Alex. Come on, you can say it. Unless you'd rather stick to the Sir bit-"

Madison cuts him off, because no. For so many reasons, no. "Alex."

It's meant to be chiding, but Alex only grins. "See, I knew one day I'd get you to say my name. I should probably get back, though, let Maria get her lunch in."

"Of course." James steps back to his station, taking stock of the fruits that he has left.

Is shocked, again, when Alex pauses at the gate, looking uncertain. "Actually, before I go. I was wondering if maybe after work tomorrow you'd be interested in getting dinner with me?"

Okay. Maybe he hasn't been misreading the signals.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday, Madison spends twenty minutes staring at his closet before deciding to just pack something to change into.

If this is a date? He doesn't want to let Alex down by going in the same jeans and tee that he's been wearing all day. But he also really doesn't feel like trying to wear anything fancier than that to work, not with temperatures still skyrocketing. And if he spends a little extra time that morning in the shower, well, that's nobodies business.

His morning is a nice one. A school group comes through bright and early, and while it means that he goes through far more of his cut fruit supply at once than he's used to, he really enjoys talking to the kids. They're cheerful and hyper, super excited as they tell him about the tomato plant they picked out for their class garden. Their teacher leans against the glass of his ice cream display, and even knowing that he'll have to clean it when they leave, he can't fault her. Knows she must be exhausted, with a full day ahead of her, but he admires the work that she does.

Teachers are good people. That's something he believes fully. 

Maria pops by during her lunch break to buy two orangeades, and he refuses the cash and tells her to tell Alex that he said hi. Is surprised when she flushes slightly, mumbling something about the other one not being for him, but for Eliza. He's not quite sure who this mystery woman that she keeps mentioning is, but he's happy for her either way. Tells her to enjoy herself.

Tries not to feel weird that he hasn't seen Alex at all yet. Even before this week, he usually would see Alex running around at some point in the day. Having an assistant means he's able to chat up other stall owners while things are in the oven. And it's always been something that he's taken advantage of, if for no other reason than so that he can get a bit of exercise that isn't walking around the kitchen. It's a desire that Madison understands.

Still. He can't get too caught up on what Hamilton is and isn't doing. After all, he has his own stall to run.

At the end of the day, he pauses, trying to figure out if it's worth changing. Ultimately decides to shut the door to his back section and pull on his nicer clothes. If Hamilton regrets his decision to ask him out and is avoiding him, well, he's still not lost anything by changing into a pair of slacks and a button-down. He's just finished rolling up his sleeves when a knocking sound draws him out.

Sighs when he notices it's Maria, not Alex. But she only jerks her head in the direction of their booth. "If you'd like to get out of here anytime soon, you might want to go get him. He's been messing around with a siracha frosting all day. Didn't even stop for lunch because he was going to have 'dinner with Jamesy-boy'."

"He's determined on the spicy front, isn't he?" Maria nods, looking exasperated. "I'll fetch him."

Maria thanks him before heading outside, and he can't help but smile when he realizes that she's let her hair down, curls bouncing as she goes. With Maria gone from sight, he turns and makes his way towards Alex's. Knocks twice on the wall before ducking into the open doorway. Puts up a hand to block the spatula that Alex thrusts toward him. "No. Put it away. If you haven't gotten it already, you aren't getting it today."

Alex huffs. "You could at least try it and tell me what you think it tastes like."

"Too late, Maria's already gotten to me. I have no interest in trying out your hot sauce concoction." James gives him what he hopes comes off as a stern look. "Alex."

The sound of his name makes him stop, and then he nods, scooping up the bowl from the table so that he can dump its contents and drop it in the sink. James would be fine with waiting for him to properly clean up, but Alex just grabs his bag from near the door before stepping out of the kitchen area. "You look nice, by the way."

James nods mutely, still trying to process the flurry of motion that he's come to know as Hamilton as he double-checks that everything is locked up tight and put away properly. He's wearing dark skinny jeans, and generally, on someone their age, James would find it ridiculous. But there's something endearing about the chaos and the package it comes in. 

"So uh, I was thinking Thai food maybe? A nice sit-down restaurant?" Now that Alex has lost his frosting to focus on, he comes off as almost nervous. "But I understand if that's not to your taste."

Thai food is just fine. When he tells Alex that, the man beams. "Brilliant. Do you want to ride together or separate?"

Madison is aware that the more date-like thing to do would be to drive together, but he also hasn't been on a date in at least five years. As much as he'd like this one to go well, he knows he's rusty and being able to leave separately is a small comfort in the case that things go terribly. No awkward drive back to the market to drop the other one off. When he voices his preference, Alex doesn't seem to think anything of it. Just asks for his number so that he can text him the direction of the restaurant.

On the ride there, James listens to NPR, makes a mental note that he needs to pick out a new audiobook soon. Maybe see if there's another novel in that detective series he was listening to before. Tries not to overthink the whole date thing. They're grown men, after all. He's not some barely twenties gay, desperately wishing for validation that he isn't alone.

No. James has grown a lot since those years and besides, he's learned it isn't always so bad being alone. Tonight is just a test run. A way of seeing if they can get along outside of work. And they're adults. If it turns out that they're better off not dating, James is okay with that. Trusts that Alex is mature enough to feel the same.

When he pulls up to the place, he finds Alex waiting outside. He did at least take the time to clean up slightly, and James considers how he feels about the half ponytail that Alex is currently sporting. It's not a hairstyle he's used to seeing on men, but it suits him, James thinks. He cleans up well, even if he is still wearing the same clothes he was making spicy frosting in all day.

They go inside, make small talk about their day before ordering. James is just about to tell Alex to calm down, that he doesn't have to be so nervous, when the other shoe drops. Alex digs into his bag and holds out a folder. "So I guess it's best to get this out of the way? This is my proposal."

Confused, James takes it. Stares blankly down at the materials inside even as Hamilton starts talking again. "I don't know if you're much of a numbers guy, but I did major in economics when I was in college. I feel like it's fair, though I'm open to tweaking it."

Numbly Madison flips a few pages before setting it down on the table. "You want to buy me out."

"Nothing as dramatic as that," the words come out fast, a sure sign of Hamilton's anxiety. "I just think, especially with Ms. Schuyler looking to expand her line, that it'd be beneficial to both of us if we combined our businesses. Especially for you. Think about it, it'd mean you wouldn't have to work every single day. You'd have me and Maria there to cover if you needed to take time off. We could go in together for a better ice cream machine. Your gain is my gain and vice versa."

"I need time to think about it." So that he can act rationally. Madison counts down from ten mentally, trying to collect himself before he walks out and makes a fool of himself. 

Hamilton nods, as if he expected that. "Sure thing. Is there anything you want to ask me about it? Or about my business? I did my best to include my stats over the last few years in the back there. Selling point and all that."

When James shakes his head, Hamilton frowns. "Are you sure? That was part of the point of doing this over dinner. So that we could talk."

Before he can stop himself, he makes a slightly strangled sound. "I understand that now."

"Now?" Of course he'd be slow on the uptake, but James isn't interested in filling in the dots here. "What did you think- oh."

Oh is right. Madison is trying to think of a way to say that it's fine when Hamilton waggles his eyebrows. "I mean, if that will help seal the deal- I'm down."

What was that about them both being adults? Madison pushes himself back from the table. "I'm not that kind of guy."

"James-" Funny enough, Madison doesn't really care to hear what he has to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shhhhh I swear all will be well soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Friday morning, Madison plasters on his best customer service smile. 

Three years of working here means he has plenty of practice being personable even when he's at less than his best. It's a skill he's grateful for as he tries to mull over Alex's offer. Wishes, vaguely, that he'd the sense to grab Hamilton's paperwork before leaving the night before. That way he could at least pretend to be making the decision on something more rational than his emotions and gut.

Does he really want to work in that close of quarters with someone who had mocked him for thinking that it was a date? Or worse, is actually willing to sleep with someone in order to get what they want? Could he really afford to turn down the offer? Being connected with Hamilton would make the seasons a little less unstable, especially if he is able to help out with the baking during the winters. They'd need to rent one of the larger stalls, pay upfront for some renovations- so there is some risk involved, but all in all, it'd even the playing field back out. Make it easier for both them and the fudge girl, Ms. Schuyler he vaguely remembered Hamilton calling her, to coexist.

Business wise, Madison knows that this is the best move so long as Hamilton is being fair with how profits will be split. Can't honestly imagine the man trying to scam him. Emotionally he knows that if he hadn't of misunderstood what Hamilton was trying to accomplish all week; if Hamilton had just asked instead of trying to butter him up, he would have considered the offer for a few hours and then accepted it. The man is a bit eccentric at times, but he's good at what he does and a hard worker. Things that James admires. 

Maria's voice causes him to jump, and he sighs as she comes through the gate. "Want to talk about it?"

At least it isn't Hamilton himself. "He send you up here?"

"If by he, you mean short, tan, and manic-" Despite not saying his name, she glances back toward their booth. "Then no. He is, however, extra surly this morning. I was coming up here to ask if you knew why, but considering you were doing your best statue impersonation, I'm going to take a wild guess and say something happened last night."

"Have you considered the possibility that it's two unrelated issues?" 

The look Maria shoots him makes it clear that he isn't fooling anyone. "Come on, Jamesy Boy. What happened?"

"Don't call me that." After double checking that no one is close enough to listen, Madison rubs at his face. "How much does manic pixie baker over there keep you in the loop about his business decisions?"

"Unless it's about flavor profiles? Not really." Not surprising, though James would have hoped that Hamilton had talked to his assistant about merging the shops. 

It probably isn't his place to tell her. "He wants us to work together. Combine our stalls."

"And you told him no?" Maria sounds curious, as if she's trying to understand what that has to do with her moody boss.

Madison, while relatively sure that she had a right to know about the potential deal, isn't quite as sure he wants to embarrass himself further. But Maria's also used to dealing with Hamilton, which means she's too perceptive for her own good. Even if he doesn't say something now, she'll piece it together soon enough. Better to come from him directly. "We had a misunderstanding about why we were going to dinner, that's all."

One blink. Two blinks. James can place the exact moment that she gets it as a hand comes up to cover Maria's mouth. "Oh no. He said something stupid, didn't he?"

"Only implied that he was happy to add himself to the contract." As if James would take advantage of someone like that. "No offense, but don't you have work to do? Or what's her name, Eliza to talk to? Do you want orangeades, I can make you orangeades."

Maria shook her head. "As off as Hammy is? I don't think he'd be that pleased with me if I was talking to 'the competition.'"

The competition? Wait. "Is Eliza the woman who makes candy?"

"Mm." Self-consciously, Maria smooths down the front of her dress. "She's really sweet? And there's nothing against stall workers dating. Or owners, for that matter."

"Maria-"

But Maria is already making her way out of his workspace. Just as he thinks that he's free of her, she reappears on the other side of the counter, leaning against it. "Look, we both know that Ham has a bad case of open mouth insert foot, it's a consequence of never shutting up- he can't think before he speaks. But I do think he might actually like you, Jamesy-boy."

No. James isn't going to kid himself on that front anymore. Everything that Hamilton had done that made Madison think that way? Was Alex trying to prove that they could work together as partners. And besides, it isn't as if James had ever thought of Hamilton that way before he misunderstood the man's turn of phrase. Sure, it made James actually realize that the man was attractive. But James would be fine. He just needed a few days to shake the residual crush. "Why don't you go tell Hamilton that I accept his offer. Though he's responsible for talking to Washington about how we're going to combine spaces."

Maybe that will get the two of them off his back. Maria means well, he knows this, but he has no interest in being made a fool of again. And they're adults, Hamilton's lewd joking aside, the man is right. It will give James a chance to take a break. And he could really use one about now.

"I'm not getting in the middle of this," which is a funny thing to say for a woman who insisted that he talk to her. "If you want to tell him? I'll watch your stall and you can tell him yourself."

James isn't sure he's ready to do that. Promises Maria that he'll stop by after the shop closes. 

Spends the rest of the afternoon chatting with customers as much as he can, trying to avoid thinking about what he's going to say. Pitches the idea to a few of them. Casually bringing up the notion of maybe doing cake and ice cream combinations. It's received well enough that by the end of the day, he's reassured himself that this is the best way to go forward.

Business partners. 

They can be great business partners.


	6. Chapter 6

It takes two months to get everything in motion. Washington needed them to wait until contracts were up in order to move a few booths around, and in the end, Madison is left to take down the space that he'd worked so hard to build over the years. 

"Hey," James looks up to where Maria is standing, box of bowls and mixing tools on her hip. "The lot next to our place is still in the process of moving as well. So do you just want me to bring this over to Hamtaro's?"

"How long do you think it'll take to rebuild your back area? They can't do it overnight, can they?" It's an innocent question from Eliza, and Madison reminds himself what a big favor they're both doing him to keep from being snippy.

Besides, Eliza, while sweet, isn't the type to take shit from anyone. It's something he's learned since her and Maria officially started dating a month before. When he'd first heard the news he'd been worried that Hamilton would have an issue with it. After all, part of the reason they were combining their shops was her business. But, as Maria had put it, unless she was sharing recipes with Eliza, there wasn't much that their relationship would impact- and neither of them were interested in baking when they got home.

"It'll take me a few days, especially since we're taking a wall out of Hamilton's back area. Figured I'd focus tonight on getting the freezers and the coolers moved. Wash said he doesn't need my space completely cleared until the start of next month." In fact, if he'd realized that the other shop was moving today, he would have waited. Thankfully the space next to Hamilton has been occupied by one of the wine shops. No small structures that needed to be torn down, just a whole lot of shelving and products. 

Eliza hums, surveying his space. "Are you going to be able to do ice cream for tomorrow? Because if not, I suppose the important stuff to grab is your juice supplies, right?"

Ideally, Madison had hoped that he could resume business as normal as quickly as possible. But she's right. Being reasonable? It's going to be the day after at best. "If we do the juice supplies and everything like that, maybe it's best to try and build the structure tonight? Get some of the shelving moved if possible. Does Hamilton have in front of the side wall cleared yet?"

It's a simple question, but Maria glances to the side before answering. "Are you sure you want that? You could share the front counters without also sharing the backspace."

When he doesn't say anything, Maria holds up her hands. " I just know things have been weird and I want you to have your space, Jamesy-boy."

Weird is a good way to put it. He'd told Hamilton that they could move forward with the plan, even waved off the man's attempts to apologize. Adults. They were adults and they could be professionals. And while the man had seemed excited about the prospect of combining their businesses, there's still been a strange sort of tension. Something that he can't quite put his finger on, especially because they aren't avoiding one another.

Hamilton's spent the last two months stopping by during lunch or after shop close to chat about the things they can do together and how their products can play off of one another. One idea that he's been particularly adamant about trying is making some sort of homemade ice cream sandwiches. But there's also been discussion of flavor choices or Hamilton making things like cheesecake to do some sort of crumble. 

And as long as they're talking shop? Everything is okay. But sometimes it seems like there's something on the tip of his tongue and then the man disappears. Other than that, the biggest differences are ones that James can't quite complain about. After all, he never really had gotten in the habit of calling the man Alex, so why should it bother him that Hamilton's stopped asking him to. Sometimes, in the midst of trying to show Madison something, he'll lean a little too close, or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Which is fine. It's the slight over apology when he catches himself that comes off oddly. 

"Have they still not kissed and made up?" James almost drops the juicer he's picked up to take over to Hamilton's and Eliza rolls her eyes. "It's a saying, James. Don't think too much about it."

They're close enough to Hamilton's stall that James checks to make sure the man isn't out and about before answering. "I just wasn't aware that Maria had said anything to you about what happened."

Isn't sure how he feels about the idea of being their entertainment. Maria huffs something about assuming that she did, even as Eliza turns to fix him with a look, box of fruit in hand. "You do understand that I work here right? And it's kind of hard to miss when Mr. Talkative is in a bad mood."

True. Just because Eliza's stall is too far away for her to see his old stall, doesn't mean the same for the new one. It's something he's going to have to get used to, though he's sure that Maria was delighted when she found out they didn't have to move. He's just grateful that he was able to talk her into helping him. 

"Look," Maria places a hand on his shoulder as she speaks, the other one pointing to the mostly empty space next to her own booth. "Why don't we leave what's there, as is. You mostly prep outside of your backroom, right?"

James nods, waiting to see where she's going. Hamilton's approached him with five or six different plans for the space since he agreed, but they hadn't necessarily agreed on one beyond acknowledging that they were going to need to expand Hamilton's backspace to fit his machines. Especially if Hamilton had been serious about potentially getting a bigger one so that he wouldn't need to do so many batches throughout the day.

"Would you be okay with a smaller backroom?" Possibly. So long as everything fit. "So we have your freezer, obviously. The machines. I know you have a stove back there, do you really need one?"

Beside them, Eliza tilts her head, brow furrowed, as if she's trying to understand why he would. But just as Madison doesn' t know how to make frosting, he doesn't expect them to understand ice cream. "The bases get cooked. Technically there are some noncook versions? But what I make has egg yolks in it. So unless we are taking down the wall and I'll be able to use y'alls, I need at least a stovetop."

"Okay. So the stove stays. You had some shelving on the wall, didn't you?" Yes. Though it's going to need to be rebuilt. "You probably need some cutting space. Then the freezer. That's all you need right? Other than your machines?"

"Freezers. There's the standing one that you're thinking of, and l have smaller freezers under the machines right now."

Maria and Eliza whisper amongst themselves for a moment, and James takes the chance to sit his juicer down on the ground and return to his stall to grab the next box of tools. When he returns, they break free and Maria walks over to the far side of the space. "What if we built a small work space here? Stove here. Machines and those freezers right next to it."

"And my big freezer?" Of everything she's left out, that's the most important one. The coolers that people can pick their ice cream out of are great, but he needs all of the cold storage space for the pints that people can take home and also to help the ice cream become more solid after it's finished churning. 

Eliza grins at him though, moving to stand closer to Hamilton's backroom. "Here. On the outside. And we can take a table to use as your main prep space to help outline the edge of your space from the stall next to it. It won't be inside the room, but if you put your stove right at the doorway? It'll be within tossing distance. Not much different than if you were using a counter inside."

Okay. He could handle that. 

Building the space itself turns out to be easier than expected. There's a door nearby, which means that he just has to move his truck and then carry the new wood that he'd gotten for the project inside. Quick work with three sets of hands. When James had built his first backroom, he'd been working alone. Expected to do the same this time. But Eliza? Is surprisingly good with power tools and while Maria avoids the saw, she doesn't have a problem with the hammer. It's definitely going to be a tight fit once the appliances are in place, but he finds he doesn't mind that much. 

"I really don't know that I can thank you ladies enough," James says when they're through. "I'll make sure to bring the handcart in the morning so that I can get the freezers and everything moved over. See if I can't grab a couple of guys to help with the cooler."

That one makes Eliza huff. "What? We're good enough to build, but not to carry the equipment?"

"It's heavy," James defends himself, even if the comment from Eliza is mostly meant in jest. Doesn't want to get on Maria's girlfriend's bad side. "But if you want to help? I'm not exactly turning down hands here." 

"It's heavy," Maria mocks. "Do you think that you're going to have to carry it the whole way? We work at a farmer's market, Jamesy-Boy. I'm pretty sure we can convince one of the farmer's to lend us a rolling cart big enough."

Figuring the best way to get out of his misstep is total deference, he looks at the ground solemnly. "Yes, Ma'am." 

"Goof." Maria's tone is fond and he smiles at her. "But that does seem to be it for today? Welcome to the family, boss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean you aren't reading this fic for weird tidbits of information about how ice cream is made? Also. I haven't made ice cream this year and I need... to go do that soon. There's definitely one more chapter coming and then possibly an epilogue. We shall see.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oooh! What's this?"

James hums as he plucks the contraption out of Todd's hands, waving off Dolley's apology. "These are herb cutters. We've recently started experimenting with mint and basil and all sorts of fun things in our lemonades."

Todd considers the complicated scissors for a moment before twisting to look at his mother. "Can I mush up strawberries for mine?"

It isn't a combination that James has done before, but he helps the little boy take some of his strawberries and put them in the juicer. The mess it makes is phenomenal and they have to load the machine a few times before there's enough strawberry juice in the cup to mix in with the lemonade but seeing Todd's pleasure at having accomplished something is worth it. Drink in hand, Todd waves as he finally follows Dolley to the rest of their shopping adventure.

After they leave, there's a handful of orders. Juices to be squeezed, ice cream to scoop. It's weird not running the cash register anymore, but not having to handle the money leaves him time to focus on the important things. Like figuring out if there's a more effective way to do strawberry lemonade, or if frozen fruit can serve as ice cubes.

All in all, it's life as normal. Working with Hamilton isn't as painful as he expected it to be, the man spends most of his time back in his own work zone talking to himself as he creates. Only takes over the cash register when Maria needs to break for lunch. Occasionally Hamilton will bring breakfast in the morning and they'll eat together, but so far the man has managed to keep conversation to appropriate topics.

James' mistake is almost forgotten, Hamilton's vulgar tongue almost forgiven. The man was right, after all. They're excellent business partners and offering deals for people who want to buy both ice cream and cake or pie has been excellent. The cookie and juice combo even better.

And having Maria around? Is worth every bit of embarrassment that took him to get here. After running a stall all by himself for so long, it's amazing to be able to rely on someone else. Besides, she's an absolute joy to work with. If she isn't rattling on about something cute that Eliza did, then she's trying to figure out new ice cream combinations. It's a blast having someone to bounce with on such things.

Madison is just about to pack up for the day when Hamilton appears, fiddling with his cufflinks as he walks. "Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Sometimes he wishes that people would just lead with what they want to talk about. "Of course."

"So, uh," Hamilton bounces slightly as he fumbles for words, seemingly unable to come to a complete stop even though he's less than a foot away now. "You seem like you've really gotten settled in?"

He's been settled in for over a month. Eliza's even stopped coming by to fuss over the little details. Now she just does it to get an orangeade and chat up Maria. "Yes, thank you."

For a moment he thinks that Hamilton's going to walk away, that it's all he has to say. But the man puffs out his cheeks instead, suddenly bursts out, "Come to dinner with me."

It isn't as collected as the first time that Hamilton asked, but James can't help but feel a familiar anxiety wash over him. "Look-"

"As a date," Hamilton follows up with. "A real date. I wanted to wait so that there wouldn't be any confusion over whether or not it was part of the whole business deal. Like, I understand if you aren't interested anymore. But if you are, please give me a second chance."

"You don't have to do this." James isn't interested in being dated out of pity, and even though Hamilton says it isn't part of the business thing, how is he supposed to be sure that it isn't? Maybe Hamilton thinks he's still holding it against him and thinks this is the best way to work things out. "If you aren't attracted to-"

The word 'me' dies as Hamilton reaches up to grasp the back of his head. The pressure is slight, and Hamilton's moving slow enough that James could stop him if he wanted to. Should stop him. James having worries about Hamilton's true intentions wasn't him trying to get the man to do this. To prove himself. 

Before he can convince himself to stop the man, chapped lips press against his and at first? It feels wrong. There's nothing magical about this, and even though Madison is old enough to know that sparks don't have to fly, he's used to feeling something. Carefully he wraps an arm around Hamilton's waist, shifting him slightly. In response, Hamilton makes a breathy sound, leaning in further and okay- this is better. It isn't until Hamilton tries to lift a leg around him that Madison moves again, hands sliding beneath the man's ass so that he can pick him up and put him on the counter.

Which Hamilton seems to like if the sounds he makes mean anything. A wolf whistle keeps him from investigating further, though, and when James looks over, Eliza and Maria are standing near the cash register. 

"Not that I don't enjoy a good show," Maria teases. "But you might want to take that somewhere a little more private."

And Hamilton is just as shameless as James always suspected, leaning in to nose at his neck. "What do you say? My place?"

It's tempting. But especially considering their rocky start, James isn't sure he wants to let it get that far tonight. "I told you before, I'm not that kind of guy, Hamilton."

"People who stick their tongue in my mouth aren't allowed to call me by my last name."

Hamilton's legs are still wrapped around his waist, and if it wasn't for their audience, James might press the issue. Push forward a little, taunt that Hamilton's more the 'call me anything so long as you're calling me' type. Instead, he shakes his head. "I don't fuck on the first date, Alex."

"Mm," Alex doesn't quite look like he believes him, even as he nods. "So we're doing this? You're going to let me take you on a date?"

When Madison says yes, their peanut gallery applauds and he leans in to put his forehead on Alex's shoulder as they finally make their exit. Eliza stops just before the door to wish them luck, and if that isn't bad enough, Maria feels it necessary to remind them to use protection. Obviously, his coworkers are the worst.

"Unless you've changed your mind about fucking me against the wall," Alex murmurs into his ear once the door has closed behind them. "I suggest that we try and find something to do."

Shameless. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"I hear farmer's markets make a pretty cute first date." Alex finally puts a little space between them as he scoots back on the counter. "We could also do dinner and a movie."

"Okay." Dinner and a movie, while perhaps cliche, at least gives them time to cool their heels in public. "Thai again?"

Sheepishly Alex rubs at the back of his head. "Uh, that didn't work out so well for us last time. There's a Greek restaurant near the movie theater if you're interested. Real classy sort of joint."

Which explains why Alex is wearing his nicer clothes today. Black slacks, barely covered in flour, not to mention the green button down that had just been so soft beneath James' fingers. "Do I need to go home and change?"

"If it'll help you feel more comfortable," Alex concedes. "You could even drop off your truck there. We could ride together tonight. If you're okay with that, that is."

It's probably the closest that Alex is going to get to asking if Madison has plans on walking out on him again. Anxious little sprite and James shouldn't like that but he does. Is glad not to be the only one standing on uneven ground for once. Still, he leans back in, weaving one hand into Alex's hair as he goes to kiss him. Lets that be his answer. Breaks away a few minutes later, swiping his tongue along Alex's bottom lip before pulling back fully. He'd meant it, after all, when he said he didn't like to take it too far on the first date.

Alex hops down from the counter, tugs him by the hand toward the direction of their vehicles. "Come on. Do I get to come inside when we get to your place? Or should I wait out in the car?"

"My place is a mess." Or at least, as much of a mess as James lets the place gets. Prefers not to have too much stuff laying around to clutter things up. And yet, despite that, he can already picture what it'll look like if things do work out. Hamilton's jacket on the back of his chair, recipe books and papers strewn everywhere. Can't stop himself from wondering if Alex is like him, usually too tired when he gets home to cook much. "But you might as well."

After all, they're too old to play games. Know each other too well to try and put the best foot forward. Especially one based off of false pretenses.

Besides, hours later, after everything is said and done, once Alex has reassured him that sleeping together doesn't have to involve anything inappropriate, his suspicions are confirmed. Alex's place is a lot worse than his will ever be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... do we want a smutty epilogue? Also, thank you all for being patient with me in terms of finishing up this fic. I hope you all enjoyed it.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey," Hamilton calls out from the backroom. "Come here, I want you to try something."

With Maria and Eliza already gone for the day, there wasn't really any question as to who he was talking to. Madison double checks that his station is clean before dropping the rag he'd been using into the sink. Finds Alex in the room, mixing up some sort of icing.

Raises an eyebrow when the man dips a finger inside to offer to him. 

"I don't want to dirty up any more spoons," Alex says as if it's an explanation.

Not wanting to argue, James leans down to take the finger into his mouth, curious as to what Alex has come up with this time. It isn't overly sweet, thankfully it isn't spicy either. Some sort of lemon flavor, though if Alex is going for lemonade or something, he's going to have to step up his game.

He scoops up some on two fingers and extends his hand for Alex to try. "So what's in there? Lemons obviously, but anything else?"

"Lavender." Now that Madison he thinks about it, he can sort of see it. 

Of course, it's hard to recall with the way that Hamilton is sucking on his fingers, tongue swirling around each digit as if he's trying to make sure there's no residue left. Or rather, there's definitely no icing left and he's just showing off. "Alex-"

The man releases the fingers with a pop, smiling far too innocently. "Come on, everyone else is gone."

This is true. Maria and Eliza left nearly an hour ago, and most of the stall owners don't need to prep for the next day as much as they do. It's a rare day that they aren't the last ones there. What he doesn't understand is why Alex can't wait until they leave work.

Still sticky fingers stroke the side of his face, the only warning he has before Alex leans in for the kiss. Pulls him in by the hair, and damn it Alex, now he's going to have to wash it. 

"Come on," Alex murmurs, hot breath puffing against his lips as he speaks. "Haven't you ever wanted to be a bit naughty?"

There are days where Alex wears impossibly tight pants, or runs around with lollipops from Eliza's stand. He likes to suck on them lewdly when he can, winking at Madison when he passes. So Madison can't claim that he's never been side tracked but- "We aren't fucking on the counter. That's just wrong."

Not one to be deterred, Alex shrugs. "You're strong enough and there's a wall right there. It's even a wall against the main wall, so you don't have to worry about me knocking the place down."

"Lube? Don't even think about suggesting frosting." He hates to be the responsible one, but with Alex's ass literally on the line, he hopes the man will understand.

"I'd make a joke about you being delicious enough as is," Alex teases, nosing his neck. "But I have a suggestion. There's coconut oil?"

It's untraditional, but Alex has slipped a hand between them and really, it isn't as if he wants to say no anyway. Wants this memory, of Alex needy and begging. To pass by this spot at work and be able to relish in what they've done. Sensing that his argument is done, teeth sink into his neck, Alex sucking on the tender skin even as he works on undoing James' belt.

Madison allows himself to be walked backward into the wall, leans there as Alex finally breaks away to close the door and grab his oil. Strokes himself to hardness while Hamilton strips down, bends over the counter so that he's held up on one elbow, careful to keep that his only contact. Legs spread as his other hand dips in between, spreading the thick oil there.

Alex preparing himself is one of those things he's never going to grow tired of seeing. Something the man knows if the amount of times that Madison's come back from the store to find Alex fingering himself means anything. But when two fingers turns to three, he walks forward to grip Alex's hip, leaning over his back. "Are we nice and stretched?"

Of course, he is. Madison reaches over to grab the little pot, using it slick his erection before dragging Hamilton up for another kiss. It's his turn to back the man into the wall, and there's an awkward moment as they struggle to make the position work, but then Alex's back is braced against the wall, fingers digging into Madison's shoulders as his heels dig into his back. 

"Have I mentioned-" Alex moans as Madison tentatively shifts his grip so that he can start moving- "How much I love it when you manhandle me?"

Hamilton loves to watch his muscles strain, being picked up and put on counters, tables, even once, thrown over Madison's shoulder. Likes to ponder aloud sometimes about how much he'd enjoy it if James were meaner to him, but Madison's never had much of an edge in that sense. "Is this what you wanted? Or were you hoping I'd turn you around and push your face into the wall as I took you?"

"I could take it." It's big talk for a man who's struggling to breathe, muscles shaking as he holds on. "Might make a mess all over the wall, though."

There's an opening there, for Madison to chide him. Maybe threaten to make him clean it up with his tongue. But it's much more gratifying to shift again, lifting Hamilton up and then letting gravity do the work. It ends the chatter for a while, Hamilton hopelessly mumbling 'oh god' as he's fucked.

"Stroke yourself off for me," James pants. "You can do it. Good boy."

It's difficult for Hamilton to get his hand between them, but once he does, it's game over. A few more strokes and he's whining into James' ear as he comes. Thankfully it doesn't take much longer for Madison to follow.

Alex snickers when he slumps slightly, and Madison can't find the energy to roll his eyes as he collapses into the sole chair in their little backroom. 

"Getting old?" Alex teases as he rubs water over a rag, using it to clean himself up. "Cause I have some vapor rub if you need it."

"I just hope this was worth it when you have to run both stands tomorrow because I can't get out of bed."

Alex leans down to kiss him when he brings the rag over. "What can I say? You inspire me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally googled pros and cons of various oils as lube.
> 
> I do not suggest using coconut oil as lube. General consensus I found in terms of reasons /not/ to use it is a. condoms don't work with it (which, not everyone uses condoms and they're in a monogamous relationship. Mads is responsible enough to make them go get tested together.) b. vagina reasons (and both are cis men, so this doesn't apply) and then just the general ??? who knows how that will affect ur body ??? (which goes for a lot of things honestly.)
> 
> There's your sex ed lesson of the day kids.


End file.
